Apparently though, I have no choice. Petra, the love of my life, has turned into someone even Satan would cast out of hell. I just called school and for the second day in a row I had to hear how out-of-control my child has been acting lately.
So I hightailed it down to school, had a good cry in the director's office and learned from her that this is the way three-year olds deal with change: They internalize their fears and anxiety and then act out. They mouth off, they regress and they turn aggressive.
Of course, this is all my fault, isn't it? I'm the one who asked, hey Petra, want a baby sister? Want someone to come into your life and steal the spotlight? Want to have to vie for your parents' attention? Seriously, how friggen' difficult is that to comprehend? I don't think I could manage it at 37, much less three.
My poor pumpkin. Someone...anyone...please tell me that this is entirely normal and that she'll go back to being the Petra we know and love very, very soon.
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